


Pancakes

by quartetship



Series: ADS Side Pieces [7]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Food, Sickfic, Side Pieces: A Different Song, springles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 07:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3758851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartetship/pseuds/quartetship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"NOT TODAY, SASH!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LuminousLawliet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminousLawliet/gifts).



> Sick Connie can dish it out, but can't take it. (Too bad his girlfriend is perfectly capable of doing both.)
> 
> Set somewhere before or during the timeline of 'A Different Song; - setting isn't super important, here. 
> 
> \--

"Oh god, Sash - this is it. This is the end."  
  
Connie laid, sprawled on their futon and staring up at the ceiling, wringing with sweat. From somewhere in the next room of their tiny apartment, Sasha giggled, just as his stomach did another flip. He rolled up on one side and wailed in her direction.  
  
"Don't you make fun of me, woman." He put on his most convincing renaissance fair-English accent and pointed lazily toward her as she reentered the room. "You are a witch, and this is all your doing!  
  
She shook her head and prodded at his side with her foot, pushing him onto his back again to make room for her to settle beside him. "The way I recall it,  _sir_ , you did this to yourself." She draped a cool, wet cloth across his face and put an empty bucket on the futon beside him,  _just in case_.  
  
He dropped his accent and frowned up at her. "Um, no. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't made me eat all those damned pancakes."  
  
Sasha laughed, even louder when she saw the way Connie grimaced at the sound. "Hardly. The only thing that  _made_  you do anything was your ego."  
  
It was true, of course. When he'd  _brilliantly_  decided on a three AM trip to their favorite diner to 'settle their stomachs' from the greasy party food they'd downed the night before, Sasha hadn't been the one to point out the pancake eating challenge. She hadn't been the one to insist on taking it, to gloat about the fifty dollar prize just waiting to be claimed. And when the waitress suggested that she and Connie compete  _against_  each other to win it,  _she_  hadn't been the one to agree. But knowing he was solely to blame for his heinous stomach upset didn't make it any more bearable. He shuddered at the thought of food, his stomach too empty to do anything but lurch. Despite her (justified) laughter at his expense, she smoothed a hand across his flushed chest and dropped a quick kiss there.  
  
"You need anything else, babe?" She moved to stand and gathered her hair behind her to tie into a ponytail. "I'm headin' to Target, so speak now or forever hold your peace."  
  
Connie reached out and swatted clumsily at her butt, missing his mark and deciding instead to hook a finger into her back pocket, pulling her back toward him. "Mm. I'd rather hold your piece." She rolled her eyes and sat back down.  
  
"Not today, babe. Now seriously, is there anything else you want me to pick up while I'm out? Soup, sprite, Gatorade?"  
  
"Maybe some of that pink shit that helps your stomach?"  
  
"Con, I don't think that works once you're actually tossing your cookies."  
  
Connie groaned. "Then don't worry about it. And  _god_ , don't talk about cookies - I don't wanna think about putting anything in my stomach right now."  
  
"Should've thought about that last night" Sasha teased. Connie glared at her from his place on the couch.  
  
"It's not my fault. Probably all the gluten in the pancakes or whatever. Maybe I'm intolerant."  
  
"More like  _intolerable_." She scratched behind his ear and dropped another kiss to his clammy forehead. "But if you don't need anything, I'm gonna go ahead and go. Got fifty dollars burnin' a hole in my pocket." She patted her back pocket - full of her winnings from the eating challenge - and he thought he might be sick again.  
  
"You are a truly wicked woman, Sash" he croaked, returning to his faulty accent. "Flaunting your ill-gotten gains in front of a dying man."  
  
She stuck out her tongue and looked around for her shoes. "Death by thine own hand, sir. I shall not shoulder the blame for your demise."  
  
"My pride was at stake," he said weakly, dropping his affectation. "Couldn't let my girl out-eat me."  
  
Sasha pulled a ridiculous grin as she tied the laces of her boots, and he groaned at the joke he could already  _feel_  hanging in the air between them.  
  
"Maybe you should worry less about me out-eating you, and spend a little more time eating m--"  
  
"NOT TODAY, SASH."  
  
She tossed an  _'I love you'_  - stuttering with laughter - over her shoulder as she left, leaving Connie to contemplate the ceiling, try to get some rest, and wonder how he ended up with a woman so much like himself. He threaded fingers behind his head and drifted off, determined to dream about her, about them, about  _anything_... but pancakes.


End file.
